


Wildfire

by equandt



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equandt/pseuds/equandt
Summary: The storm recedes...aftermath ofThe Storm/Eye.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Elizabeth Weir
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	Wildfire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quibilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quibilah/gifts).



> So this is the first real fanfic I’ve ever written, which I’m posting here as a gift story for Quibilah (who got me hooked on Stargate). Quibilah’s behemoth of a novel about The Order really got me into the mood for writing…I’ve been wanting to write something about John Sheppard and Elizabeth Weir basically ever since I got into Atlantis and them capturing my heart like no other pairing, but as I’m forever complaining about being terrible with plot I just sort of let any ideas play out mentally for my own entertainment and never attempted to write anything down. But for whatever reason this particular set of scenes really wanted to force their way out and I figured what the hell, I like fluff/angst (flangst?) as much as anyone so I’ll just fucking write it.
> 
> Anyway, I was watching Die Hard over Christmas (which I’d somehow never seen) and realized how much The Storm/Eye took inspiration from that film, so I immediately had to rewatch those episodes right after as they’re in my top favorites and get better every time. I was particularly struck this time by the emotional toll the Genii siege takes on both these characters, and this sequence of scenes played so clearly through my head before I went to sleep…so here’s a bit of aftermath in which my fave couple explore some feelinggssss they’ve been trying to hide…
> 
> So that got a bit more rambling than necessary but anyway, here’s the story — Quibilah, I hope this is a good surprise and not a totally lame one and helps take your mind away from the torture you’re inflicting on your characters for a bit?

*

Elizabeth stood huddled in shadow, leaning lightly against a wall beneath the overhang leading out to the balcony — despite the cold, despite the rain still drizzling down and her own exhaustion. The storm had mostly receded, though the waves still lashed against the harbors. She was so terribly drained; everyone else had dispersed to their quarters for some much needed rest and she had been about to do the same, but as she had been passing the doors leading to the balcony she had balked. A feeling of fear had clenched the pit of her stomach, and it was then she knew she needed to go out there, despite the cold and rain. Defiance replaced fear, working its way into anger. She would _not_ let the terror of the last few hours ruin this treasured space for her, she would _not_ fear standing on her favorite balcony because of what had taken place on a similar area of the city hours before. Kolya would not take this away from her.  


Her mind had been sluggish in the aftermath, but as she stood it began turning over the events of the day again, no matter how hard she tried to shut them out. The anxiety rose again, a terrible shaky feeling in her limbs that had her leaning more heavily against the wall, focusing on keeping her breath steady. Worse, shame began to flood through her. Elizabeth prided herself on her strength, her composure in stressful situations and all day she had let fear wrack her — she’d felt the strength to fight Kolya off completely ebb away as he’d attempted to drag her through the gate (not that she could’ve done much, she reflected, against the gun in his hand). Unbidden, the scene played in her mind, and she felt the fear all too well again, remembered Kolya’s tight hold on her, like a snare. She remembered John, so calm as he lined up that final shot…she owed her life to him.  


A sudden crack of thunder caused her to startle; she cried out, sinking against the wall as she started to shake. Her vision was tunneling, she dropped her head to her hands and fought the burning in her throat, her eyes threatening to tear up.  


“Elizabeth?”  


That quiet, slightly graveled voice caught her attention before full panic could take her. She cursed to herself — she should’ve known he’d find her out here, and though mostly exasperated, she couldn’t fight a faint warm sensation that flowed through her. He knew that this was “her” place, though she suspected he liked it about as much — more than once she’d caught him standing at the railing and staring out at the dark ocean, joining her in her habit of grabbing a midnight coffee.  


She didn’t stand immediately, hoping it looked as though she’d purposely been sitting this way. She heard him take a step and at that she slowly rose, carefully arranging her features, turning with a faint smile that she hoped didn’t look too strained.  


His eyes were wide; she felt a pang in her stomach at the look they held, that she’d never seen before — haunted, almost fearful. He was frozen, as though afraid she wasn’t truly there, or that if he took one more step she’d be taken by death like he’d feared earlier.  


“Oh hey,” she greeted in a small voice, though she kept her head held high. She took a step forward to try and put him at ease. Suddenly she was feeling the bone chilling cold all too well again.  


“Are you okay?” he ground out, almost whispering, apparently now feeling safe to approach till they were standing closer than arms length; she thought she could feel the heat emanating from him.  


“Yes John,” she replied, standing straighter but the crack in her voice and her burning, watering eyes betrayed her. She lowered her head, trying to hide them but before she knew it he had pulled her into his arms — his face was buried against her neck as he held her so tightly she momentarily had to catch her breath, but she found herself clinging back just as hard, pressing into his warmth, the cold and numbness being chased away from her limbs. All restraint left her, and she openly let herself cry against his shoulder. His hands were moving soothingly along her back though his breathing had become slightly labored; peering up, she noticed his eyes were shining as well.  


“I thought I — we’d lost you,” he said weakly, voice wavering. One hand came up to shakily stroke her hair. He lowered his head, hesitating a bit before kissing the side of her head, holding her there for a long moment.  


The sick feeling welled up in his stomach again as Kolya’s voice echoed in his mind, all too clear:  


“Major Sheppard how’s this for credibility? Weir is dead.”  


It had been like a blow to the gut, followed by a rage like no other that had engulfed him, a fire coursing through him — he was ready to kill them all and bring down the whole damn city if he had to.  


John hadn’t been sure what it was in the past several weeks — why his nervous habits seemed to come out around her, why he was finding himself heading out to that balcony in the middle of the night — well, he knew what it was deep down, but tried to convince himself he didn’t — she was his superior, he couldn’t feel like this…shouldn’t…. 

He didn’t care now. All these warring thoughts had fled from him this day, right now, and by the way she was responding, he suspected she felt the same.  


It seemed they stood like that for a long time, listening to the waves and occasional soft roll of thunder in the distance, but it felt too soon that they were loosening their hold. He felt a faint chill as they separated and realized he’d somehow forgotten about her wet clothes, which had soaked into his now mostly dry ones.  


“You should change — aren’t you cold?” he asked, still holding her loosely as though ready to pull her into the warmth again.  


“Not really, I’ve actually warmed up a bit.” Her mouth quirked into a small smile.  


“Ah well…I have that effect on people,” he joked lamely and she snorted, letting her face fall against his chest as she laughed softly; he took that opportunity to pull her against him again. He smiled against her dark hair, glad he’d been able to lighten her mood.  


“All right,” she said, pulling away and adopting her businesslike Dr. Weir mode once more. “I do need to change, and I should definitely get some sleep — same goes for you,” she added, quirking an eyebrow.  


He grinned back, then reluctantly loosened his arms from her and she started towards the doors then froze, seeming to deflate a bit again. She turned.  


“Would…you come with me?” she asked hesitantly. It bothered her to admit that her fear was still there, that she didn’t feel quite comfortable enough walking through the corridors alone tonight, and she could tell he recognized it too. But she also certainly wouldn’t mind walking with him — and she could tell he felt the same about that too.  


“Of course,” he replied softly, giving her a smile that she returned, without strain, and they made their way to her quarters. The halls were dark and silent, but comforting, the city at peace for the first time in hours.  


They reached her door, and she passed her hand over the console. It slid open but she paused — he waited, heart suddenly starting to hammer.  


“I—“ she shook her head, then tried again. “I know this sounds inadequate, but thank you — for looking out for me today. For all of us really…”  


He opened his mouth slightly to respond but couldn’t think of what to say; his heart was thudding harder, a tingling sensation radiating through his limbs. Elizabeth offered a quick, tight smile and quickly said, “Good night,” but found herself stalling again, found herself staring into his eyes.  


Before she could stop herself she was reaching up, resting a hand against the side of his face and pulling him into a soft kiss. After a moment of surprise he opened his lips against hers, that spark he’d felt these past several weeks ignited to a coursing wildfire, heat flooding through him.  


It lasted mere seconds, but when they broke apart they were both flushed, both seemingly at a loss for words.  


"You should uh…” he broke the silence, awkwardly indicating her damp clothes again.  


“Change, yes,” she said briskly. “Though I guess I don’t have to worry about catching a cold now,” she added with a lift of the eyebrow, waving a hand as though to fan herself. It was his turn to laugh; he stroked her hair again affectionately.  


“Good night, John,” she tried again, and reached up to kiss him once more, quickly this time, before entering her quarters. He watched her as the door slid shut, a faint smirk on her face along with her trademark raised eyebrow.  


“Good night, Elizabeth,” he said as though in a haze to the closed door.  


He felt as though he was floating as he made his way back to his quarters. The fire still coursed through his veins, his exhaustion momentarily gone. It was strange to think that just hours earlier, they had been besieged, that he had been on a rampage to avenge her and fight for their city. The thoughts in his head were now muddled, flickering in a bewildering way but one thing he knew for sure — they cared for each other, a lot more than they were supposed to.

_End_

*


End file.
